


Transcending Time and Space

by SakuraDemonAlchemist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/F, F/M, Genderbending, Royalty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 06:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14302704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakuraDemonAlchemist/pseuds/SakuraDemonAlchemist
Summary: Fran gets her memories a bit earlier than expected, and decides she's had enough playing savior for the ungrateful idiots of the magical communities. Taking off at the end of her OWL's, she heads straight for the one place she felt she actually belonged...the Varia! So what if her future/former co-workers and possible insane asylum escapees don't know who she is. She won't let that stop her from actually getting together with the guy she's had a crush on for years.Even with his annoying habit of stabbing her with those stupid knives.Fran-is-Fem-Harry





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to post this one on here as my first official story. May cross post on fanfiction later.

If anyone noticed the profound difference in her attitude, no one dared to say anything. Iris Potter finished her History of Magic exam in record time (she had that same flat, expressionless look on her face since the Divination exam) before leaving the exam hall.

Iris had gone from defiant and headstrong to completely emotionless and flat. It was like all the fight had drained out of her, leaving only a sarcastic, rather obnoxious witch behind.

Hermione was not impressed with the change, Ron, more so since Iris hadn't hesitated to rip apart his rather pathetic ego and jealously to shreds with mere words.

They were still baffled on how she managed to get Trevor to stay in one place when even Neville had given up on keeping track of his toad. Said amphibian was now happily sleeping the days away in the pocket of her robes, which had been specially charmed for a toad.

Iris had already discreetly bought the toad off from Neville, who was more than happy to part with his long time pet. Mostly because it meant he could discreetly order one that he wanted and he only kept track of as an afterthought at this point. Or maybe some new plants. It didn't hurt that she had also bribed him with unlimited use of Hedwig and an owl-order catalog from overseas.

Hedwig could use the exercise, to be honest.

Iris went to the kitchens to get some meat, and then packed her bag. History was the last exam she had to do and she had no intention of following the same damn script that had been more or less shoved down her throat the first time.

Screw magical England. She was so gone it wasn't even funny.

“Hello Fran,” said a voice with a dreamy quality.

“Hey Luna. Should have guessed you'd notice the truth. You were always the most perceptive,” said Iris.

“I suppose I will see you soon. I'm sure Daddy will understand... besides, I just finished my O.W.L.'s earlier,” said Luna happily.

Iris turned to look at the little Mist. Luna and possibly Neville were the only ones she'd claim were still her friends in the castle, since the twins were already long gone.

“Take care of Hedwig for me. Make sure that the Order and the two idiots don't get near her,” said Iris blandly.

Luna hummed happily.

“You look better with teal and happier when it's mixed with gold,” said Luna. Iris blushed.

“Thanks. See you soon, Lunabell,” said Iris. 

With a few pieces of meat, one of the thestrals broke off from the herd and let her get on it's back.

“Take me home to Florence, please,” she asked politely. With a simple illusion, no one saw them leave. 

Luna went up to the Owlry to pick up Hedwig. The owl didn't need to be told, and flew to her shoulder before nuzzling her hair. 

She'd see her chick soon enough.

Italy

The second Iris touched down in Italy (having bypassed nearly every spell and ward meant to deter magicals from entering illegally...not that she cared) the part of her that was the English Enclave's Savior died.

She refuse to martyr herself for them twice. They weren't worth it, regardless of what the old bastard claimed.

It was like stepping into a favorite blanket after a bad day, curled up to a fire with a warm of hot tea in her hands.

Iris Potter was long gone, and in her place was Fran. Or as a certain fake prince liked to call her, “Froggy”.

Except she had known just by looking at the date when the memories came back that the Varia wouldn't remember her. That the Varia Storm wouldn't know who she was on sight.

It had hurt like hell.

But the Varia castle was the closet she had ever come to a real home since her parents were murdered. Hogwarts had once held that place in her heart, before war and far too many lies had ruined that image.

The thing was she couldn't jump into the Mist division and expect them to place her with the temperamental Storm Officer like last time. She'd be lucky to rate anything more than a grunt.

But there were other, much less annoying ways into the Varia castle. If one could stomach the sheer insanity that came with being in close proximity to Vongola madness, which was only amplified by the almost mandatory insanity that came with being Varia Quality.

Besides, it wasn't like she was unused to cleaning.

Within a week (and having to deal with the “stress test” of cleaning out no less than ten different corpses that tended to collect in the castle, one of which had all the hallmarks of being one from Lussuria's special collection) she was hired and given a fairly decent salary for someone who was clearly underage and had zero previous employers. So long as she could pass the high school requirement, they did not give a damn what her qualifications were.

Considering the amount of blood and other fluids no normal maid would want to deal with on top of the random bodies and corpses that were around the place, they couldn't really afford to be picky. It took a special kind of person (or a hell of a lot of desensitization) for someone to keep working in the Varia Castle without running away screaming or needing to be disposed of via the mass grave in the back.

Just seeing Belphegor again, ten years younger than she remembered, hurt. But if there was one thing she was used to, it was pain. It was an old friend that had never betrayed her, regardless of what happened.

**~*~**

Lussuria normally didn't pay much attention to the maids or the people who kept the castle inhabitable.

Except he'd have to be blind to miss the looks she kept shooting the Varia's self-proclaimed “Prince”. The teal-haired girl was positively adorable, always making up excuses to avoid Belphegor whenever he walked in the room.

It had taken the Prince a full month to pick up on it.

He had not been happy...which lead to the situation right now.

“The stupid maid keeps running away.”

Luss chuckled.

“Then again she's right to fear the Prince,” continued Bel, still pouting.

Luss couldn't help it... he laughed.

“It's not fear.”

Bel looked so adorably confused Luss didn't want to ruin that particular surprise. From what he could tell, the maid had a serious crush on the blond Storm officer. Though he was getting all the signals mixed up.

It was only natural... Luss doubted Bel had ever had to deal with someone who knew perfectly well what he did and wasn't terrified of him. He had never been on the receiving end of a crush like the absolutely adorable one he had on Mammon years ago, before he outgrew it when he hit puberty.

Mammon had found it cute, which was why she (and Luss was one of the rare people who knew the Mist's real gender) hadn't charged him for it and simply let him grow out of it. Besides, Luss was also aware Mammon had a thing for Fon, though she would deny it with her dying breath if asked about it.

Bel stared at Luss.

“Then why does the peasant always leave when I enter the room?”

Luss grinned at the confused Storm.

“That would ruin all the fun when you figure it out. I will say she's not scared of you in the least though. If she could handle cleaning up the mess you made in the second training hall with your Storms, I highly doubt your usual habits would get her to run away.”

For a brief, split-second, Luss saw a flash of confused red under Bel's bangs. He always hid his eyes because apparently the sight of blood red eyes terrified people and he got sick of people flinching when they saw it. Even his own parents had been sickened by them.

Somehow, Luss doubted the little maid would flinch. She'd probably like them.

Bel was so irritated that the maid kept avoiding him that he did something he normally wouldn't.

He ordered one of them to come up and clean out his room. 

Belphegor did not like having people in his room. He barely tolerated Luss in there, and that okama refused to step foot inside unless it had been properly cleaned after the first time.

The little maid, being the most recent hire and the only one who was available, quietly entered the room with several trash bags, enough cleaning supplies to handle damn near anything, and the air of someone who was exasperated with the situation.

She was not expecting Belphegor to still be in there. He was supposed to be out on a mission!

He had her pinned to the wall with a knife to the throat and a bloodthirsty smirk firmly in place.

“Ushishishi... look what I've finally caught. Did you really think you could keep avoiding me like that?” he sneered.

He couldn't properly see her eyes under those long bangs (there were hints of green, but that was it), but he could feel her annoyance.

“Stupid fake prince,” she said flatly, unimpressed.

Belphegor growled.

“Kaching. The prince is not a fake.”

She lifted her head a bit and gave him a flat look. Her green eyes should looked like they were once very expressive, but something had stripped all emotion from them in a painful manner. Belphegor didn't like that. At all.

“Look are you going to let me do my job and clean up this pigsty, or are you going to continue being a brat and keep me pinned here?” she asked flatly.

Belphegor stared at her from behind his bangs. He slowly let her up from the wall, and she went to work with admirable efficiency for a peasant. Every so often he would throw some of his knives at her just to see how she would react.

She didn't. The closest she came to it was catching said knives before they went more than a few inches past her head before bending them, to his annoyance.

“Knock that off, peasant!” snapped Belphegor.

“Keep your toys to yourselves, fake prince,” she said bluntly.

This maid was really starting to piss him off.

In less than an hour, she had the room as close to clean as it was liable to get with a cranky Prince bothering her.

She left without a word, leaving a confused and irritable Belphegor behind.

~*~*~*~*~

Mammon was sitting with Lussuria with an amused look on their face. Well as much as one could see considering the cowl hide half their features from view.

“Mu. This is beyond adorable and entertaining. And you're saying the little prince hasn't figured it out yet?”

Luss chuckled.

“He gets all confused and irritable every time the little one gets brought up. He still hasn't figured out that she likes him,” said Luss.

It was great entertainment to watch the two. Even if Squalo had yet to pick up on the fact that Belphegor had an admirer.

Luss grinned at the Mist.

“Want to make it even more fun?”

“I'm listening,” smirked Mammon.

A few weeks later...

Belphegor stared at the annoying maid. Just being around her was confusing...even if every time she opened her mouth he wanted to stab her. Repeatedly. It was like she had a talent for pissing people off.

“What do you want, peasant?”

“I have an extra ticket to that new slasher movie in town and no one else was interested,” said the girl flatly. “It's no fun watching it alone and it would be a waste to skip out.”

Belphegor stared at her, wondering why his stomach did a strange flip when he realized that he would be alone in a movie theater with the annoying maid who wasn't afraid of him.

“What's in it for the prince?”

The girl rolled her eyes at him openly.

“You could have fun trying to copy the deaths in the movie or trying to outdo them with your next assignment. Besides, it's a free ticket to a decent movie with lots of blood, death and gratuitous violence with the inevitable horror cliches.”

He blinked, twice.

“I'm in, but you're buying the snacks.”

He was bored and this sounded like it would be mildly interesting.

“Fine, but you're driving,” she said with her usual deadpan.

Luss and Mammon discreetly smirked as they watched Belphegor and the little maid drive off to the movies.

“Should we stalk them?” asked Mammon.

“Absolutely,” said Luss grinning. This was too entertaining to pass up! 

~*~**~*~

The movie wasn't half bad. A bit too cliché and the plot could definitely use some work, but it wasn't a B-rated flick.

Belphegor found it all rather amusing.

Mammon smirked when, as the little maid (they really needed to find out what her name was) was coming back from using the restroom and getting a refill of her root beer, the Mist Arcobaleno deliberately tripped her.

The effect was instant. She managed to keep her drink from spilling, but not her balance. 

It took Belphegor a few seconds to register that the annoying maid was sprawled on his lap. A faint tinge of red mostly hidden by his long bangs came across his cheeks.

She put her drink into the cup holder and slowly managed to get back up off his lap. Though there was no way Bel could miss the blush on her cheeks...they were too close and the lighting was just right.

Unseen thanks to the bangs that covered his eyes, Belphegor's eyes widened.

Oh. So that was why Luss found the fact that the maid avoided him amusing. His own blush deepened and he had to resist the urge to pull her into his lap properly.

Above them, Mammon and Luss shared identical smirks.

This was really too adorable for words. And worth the cash it took to get those tickets to the movie.


	2. Chapter 2

Fran wasn't the least bit surprised when she found Xanxus in the forest when she headed to work. She didn't live inside the castle, but it was easily enough to apparate to and from her apartment.

Rather than ask (read: demand) to know who he was, she walked right up to him.

“Need help making it to the Sun division?”

“I don't fucking need help trash.”

“So you're not barely able to walk under your own power, despite the fact you're exhausted and injured?” she deadpanned. “I can hide us so no one sees you until you're safely inside the Sun Division with Lussuria. Not even the loud mouth shark will see you.”

Xanxus glared at her. She stood unmoved.

“Or I could loan you my cloak and bring Lussuria here.”

“What cloak?”

She pulled out her invisibility cloak. Understanding filled his features.

“Bring the fucking okama here, trash.”

He leaned against a tree, hidden by her cloak. He knew she was a witch simply because she had one.

Fran walked straight to the Sun division and found Luss within seconds.

“Lussuria, there's a very cranky dragon that needs your help outside.”

“I don't treat dragons, little one,” cooed Lussuria.

“You're going to want to see this one though. And bring the loud mouthed shark with you.”

Lussuria paused and really looked at Fran.

“What breed of dragon is it?”

“It's a mixed breed, with red eyes and a lot of scars. You really need to see this dragon,” said Fran cryptically. 

Lussuria grabbed his medical kit, mostly to humor the little maid. He also brought Squalo, mostly so the Rain could hopefully use his Flames to calm the beast down in case it tried to attack. He'd probably enjoy it.

His amusement died a painless death the second he registered who was under the invisibility cloak.

“Voi! Where's the damn... Boss.”

Squalo's irritation died when he realized that his Boss, his Sky was back. And not very amused.

“I told you the dragon needed help,” said Fran simply.

Lussuria chuckled a bit. Dragon was a very apt description of Xanxus, especially when he was in a real mood.

“Is the cloak yours?” he asked.

“He didn't want any help from a mere maid. So I agreed to bring you here instead. I brought the loud mouthed shark because he is technically running the place since the boss is missing,” said Fran without hesitation.

Lussuria filed this information in the back of his head. This made things even more interesting...he hadn't known little Fran was also a witch.

“Can you get me healing potions?”

“I'm a decent hand at brewing them, but it would be easier to buy. I don't think the miser would like it much though.”

“Voi. You let me deal with the miser brat,” said Squalo dead serious.

“You can keep borrowing the cloak until we're in the castle. That way no one will notice the extra until after he's feeling well enough to shoot people like he threatened to do to me,” said Fran.

“You'll have to carry the bag then,” said Lussuria. With Xanxus well hidden by the cloak, and Fran dutifully carrying the somewhat heavy medical bag, they managed to carry the weakened Wrath back to the Varia castle... where he was promptly hidden inside the Sun division's private room. Fran would clean out the Boss' room before they moved him.

A few hours later

Belphegor skidded down the halls. There was a rumor that had been circulating for the past two hours that the Boss was back. He was badly injured, but he was back.

Seeing the others in the room, Belphegor's grin spread widely across his face when he saw the familiar scowl of Xanxus. He looked half dead and had a lot of new scars, but it was definitely him.

It took him a few seconds to register the annoying maid in the room as well, dutifully taking down the list of potions that Lussuria was going to need to bring the Boss back to full strength...with a lot of help from Mammon.

“Mu. It took you long enough to hear he was back.”

“I just woke up, Mammy,” complained Belphegor.

“How did you sneak the boss in without anyone properly noticing?” asked Mammon to Lussuria.

“Little Fran here has an invisibility cloak. She also offered to get the potions we'll need once we have a better idea of the damage.”

“An invisibility cloak? Those are rare...and expensive,” said Mammon with interest.

“It belonged to my father's family. Not like I was really using it,” said Fran duly. “I hate magic.”

Mammon frowned.

“How could you hate magic?”

“Let me rephrase that... I despise the idiots that make up the magical enclaves for being a bunch of damn sheep who would happily stand by and let a dark lord walk all over them because a certain senile old goat doesn't have the balls to use lethal force,” said Fran bluntly, her voice held more emotion than they had heard yet. “From what I understand, Vongola Nono barely has more balls than that bastard.”

Dead silence.

“Mu. If you're referring to who I think you are, then that's an understatement if I've ever heard one,” said Mammon bluntly. “New blood?” 

“Half-blood. Pure blood father, new blood mother.”

“Voi. I'm confused,” said Squalo.

Mammon held out a hand, and he reluctantly paid the miser.

“There is a wizard who made a name for himself ending the magical half of WWII who's almost as idiotic as Vongola Nono when it comes to holding back important information from his subordinates. He's a pacifistic fireside general, the sort who makes up plans and always seems surprised when his plans are ruined by contact with the enemy and who believes that any loss to his men is acceptable if even one person from the opposing side pretends to have a change of heart and decides to 'redeem' themselves. He has become so enamored with his supposed image that he openly believes he knows best without bothering to consult people with more experience or actual knowledge,” said Mammon.

Fran snorted.

“He's a senile bastard who is far too casual with his legilmency, even on innocent children, and he's not afraid to sacrifice a single pawn and their own personal well being just so his plan for the greater good can succeed...even if that pawn is the last heir to an ancient and noble house,” she said scathingly.

“Sounds about right,” said Mammon with equal disgust. “Let me look over the list before you go waste any galleons on the potions. The last thing we need is a bad reaction to them mixing.”

Three days later...

Mammon knew Fran would have to come visit them in their office to get reimbursed for the potions.

“Which family?” she asked curtly.

“Pay me first,” Fran shot back without hesitation.

“Look it's easier to do the gold transfer if I know which vaults you use,” said Mammon crossly.

Fran rattled off a number, which Mammon made a note of.

Before Fran can leave, Mammon softly asked “How many years of magical schooling did you complete before you left?”

“I just finished my last O.W.L. before I borrowed a thestral and came straight to Italy. No one would look for a simple maid, especially in a place like the Varia for me,” said Fran quietly. There was a tired note in her voice. “I'll undergo the second exams, but after that I am done with magic. All it has done is take and take, and gave nothing of worth in return.”

There was a story behind that, and Mammon wasn't callous enough to ask when it was clear the memories were still far too fresh. 

“Belphegor has yet to finish his secondary exams. It was a complete headache getting him to bother with the first set.”

And it was an easy way to trick the two into spending time together for hours on end, forcing them to study together.

Fran blushed, aware of the implications of what Mammon was hinting at.

~*~*~*~*~

Belphegor was not pleased.

“Why should the Prince put up with her for three hours?” he whined.

“You two haven't passed your N.E.W.T.'s. You know perfectly well that until you do, you'll never be able to claim your full inheritance unless you decide to get married and produce an heir,” said Mammon without any sympathy. “And even then, only Fran would be able to skive off the majority of that simply because of her gender.”

“The second anyone tries to convince me to become a house wife I am going to break out my more unpleasant spells,” said Fran bluntly. “I've already hit one annoying jackass with a slow acting castration hex and I will not hesitate to upgrade it to the more... interesting... ones that leave people vomiting their guts out from sheer horror alone.”

Belphegor looked at her with interest.

“You actually hit someone with a slow-acting castration hex?”

“The idiot wouldn't take no for an answer and kept pressing his luck. With the way he was acting, it was clear he was used to girls throwing themselves at him simply because he was magical royalty. Personally I wish I could be there the day he finds out his claim on the throne was invalidated after what I did to him... I doubt he even realized what I hit him with.”

“Ushishishi... which country?” asked Belphegor grinning.

Fran turned to look at him dead in the face. Her eyes were clearly visible and something in them had him go still.

“If I said which one it was, you'd recognize it immediately and we'd never get anything done for weeks. And according to the laws of his country, his claim as a prince was invalidated the day he pissed me off enough to use that hex on him. A prince may only remain such as long as they are capable of producing an heir to the throne. I will say this though... he has an identical twin who had the sense to kick his ass.”

Mammon had the feeling Fran had a run-in with the twin brother Belphegor murdered before he fled his country. The fact Belphegor hadn't picked up on the subtle hints meant he was still trying to cling to the illusion his twin was dead at his hands.

The Mist hid a smirk. If things progressed like they hoped, Belphegor might finally have met someone who could actually keep up with him.

“In any case, I would rather get your secondary exams over with so we never have to deal with that nonsense again. Fran, do you have your results for your first ones?”

She handed over a scroll, though the name had been noticeably ripped off. Her magical signature was still there, so it was fine.

“Impressive marks.”

Everything save for Divination and Astronomy had an “E” or higher...though the Defense had the highest marks one could possibly get without attempting a Mastery.

“I produced a corporeal patronus for my Defense. The examiners seemed rather impressed,” shrugged Fran.

Mammon wasn't the only one who's head looked right at the dismissive girl. Belphegor was staring at her as well, in open shock.

“What,” said Mammon.

Fran produced a holly wand, eleven inches and well used.

“Expecto Patronum,” she intoned with her usual bored tone.

A massive silvery stag pranced about the room. It seemed to hone in on Mammon rather strongly though.

“Very impressive,” said Mammon honestly. It took a lot of power to produce a corporeal patronus like that. Much less maintain it without showing any strain.

“Ushishishi... the maid is more interesting every minute. Can you teach the prince how to do that?” he asked intrigued.

“Actually I can. I showed a group of other students how to use the spell and they were able to make their own patronus within a few months of sporadic training. Somehow I have the feeling the prince will be able to figure out how to pull it off much faster,” said Fran.

The way she said the word “prince” made Belphegor's stomach do a little flip. Fran never called him a prince, much less sound like she openly believed his claims.

Yet the way she said it just now was unbelievably hot. He knew without looking he was hard from hearing it. He just hoped neither of them noticed the effect it had on him.

“Ushishishi... the prince is a genius,” he said snickering, trying to hide his reaction.

“It takes more than genius to power that spell.”

“Enough flirting you two,” said Mammon. They rolled their eyes when the two immediately blushed hearing that word.

Teenagers.

“Belphegor, you'll help Fran with their Ancient Runes. Fran, you'll help him with his potions, Defense and charms. I'll supervise transfiguration and the darker spells, unless you have a problem with them,” said Mammon.

Fran openly rolled her eyes.

“There is no such thing as a dark spell... it's all about intent. And I'd like to shove a few up that wrinkled arse of that damn goat bastard for all the grief he's caused me over the years. I have a lot of anger towards his stupidity to vent.”

Mammon smirked.

“Good answer. And you will be mastering the Unforgiveables with a second wand I'll help you procure.”

“I can throw off the imperius, the Crucio annoys me more than anything, and the killing curse can be avoided with a simple mirror, ironically enough.”

“Really.”

“Well it depends on the mirror, but I've found the damn thing more or less bounces off the reflective surface and loses most of it's power that way. Besides, I'm fairly certain the Prince here finds that spell far too boring to use,” said Fran.

Belphegor's stomach did another flip, but his grin was very wide indeed.

“Ushishishi... the peasant knows me far too well.”

It was more fun to eviscerate someone with his knives than bother with magic. And less annoying dealing with the Aurors... they got so bitchy whenever that spell was used.

“Let's put your claims to the test then,” said Mammon, pulling out their wand and not giving Fran a chance to defend herself. “Imperio.”

Fran didn't even bat an eye at the rather ridiculous order.

“Go fuck yourself,” she replied.

“Ushishishi!” cackled Belphegor. This peasant was becoming more and more entertaining by the minute!


	3. Chapter 3

“Trash. What's the deal with the green haired maid and the prince trash?” asked Xanxus. He was bored and still on bed restrictions while the potions and medicine did their job. At least he could walk around and he was in his bed again.

Luss grinned.

“You noticed it to? Isn't it just adorable? Belphegor was so confused when he noticed she was avoiding him, at least until we tricked the two of them into actually talking. Mammon and I currently have a bet on how long it's going to take before the two develop a proper interest in each other~!” said Luss.

“Tch. The girl's a fucking maid.”

“Only because it was less of a headache than trying to make a name for myself in order to be invited. I am not going to bother trying to make myself noticed by the Varia when it was easier to join up as part of the cleaning staff,” said a voice from nowhere.

Luss and Xanxus reacted badly.

Fran dropped the Mist Illusion with a bland smirk.

“Your next round of potions,” said Fran.

Xanxus eyed the teal-haired girl with appreciation. Even if his reactions were dulled from his recent freedom, the fact she got the drop on both of them was damn impressive.

“You scared me, darling!”

“I'm a Mist. It's in the general job description that I screw with people simply because I can,” deadpanned Fran. Xanxus snorted. 

“How good are you?” Xanxus asked, interest in his eyes.

“I'll leave that up to your imagination. But I would say good enough to prank Squalo's shampoo and turn his hair pink for weeks.”

“That was you?” said Lussuria with open glee.

“Pictures. Now,” said Xanxus with a genuine smirk on his face.

Fran smirked.

“I can do you one better. Know what a pensieve is?”

By the time Squalo comes to check on Xanxus (and remind himself that his boss is back) he flinched at the dark amusement on the man's face.

“Bubblegum pink, really?”

“VOI! Who the hell kept those damn pictures?! I'm going to skewer whoever showed you!” he ranted, red faced. Xanxus barked out open laughter.

~**~**~

Belphegor didn't know why, but he was very nervous. He was going to a club with Fran later...yet he felt like he had butterflies flittering about in his stomach.

It was nerve-wracking.

“Ka-ching... a prince should not be so nervous, going out with a peasant!” he said irritably.

He grabbed something that looked actually clean (he had a lot more of those, since Fran had somehow earned his permission to clean his room at least twice a week...) and didn't clash horribly. He even checked his crown, before realizing what he was doing and stalked out irritably.

Fran was in her usual casual clothes, and if he didn't know better he'd swear she was a boy with how baggy that shirt was.

“Really darling, don't you have anything better?” said Lussuria with a frown.

“I don't really know much about shopping, much less for clothes. So long as it mostly fits and doesn't irritate me, I'll wear it. I don't see the point of dressing up.”

Lussuria pouted.

“We'll have to fix that later. There's no excuse for a girl as cute as you wearing such ill-fitting clothing.”

“It could be worse. At least these actually fit,” said Fran dismissively.

Lussuria's frown deepened.

He looked at Bel, then at how frumpy Fran looked.

“Well this won't do at all!”

“Hey, what are you...” said Fran, open disbelief in their voice. She was promptly kidnapped by the okama, which had Belphegor snickering.

Fran didn't stand a chance.

Belphegor impatiently waited for the okama to finish playing dress up with the peasant.

Fran was positively frumpy when Luss kidnapped her...but the change was immediate when he let her go.

The clothes actually suited her, though it was also very clear she wasn't used to having an outfit that fitted properly. The thing that made him frown though was what she was wearing.

“Is that the new uniform?” asked Belphegor.

“Boss approved it. It'll become standard next month.”

“Kaching. Why is the peasant wearing it then?”

“I think he likes me,” said Fran flat. “Though I don't get what's so impressive about sneaking up on the dragon and Luss.”

Belphegor stared.

“You snuck up behind the boss.”

“Scared the living daylights out of us!” said Luss, confirming it.

“I still find it odd that you have an open bet about me and the fake prince,” said Fran, frowning.

“What bet?” asked Belphegor.

“Ah, ah, ah! You two should go out and enjoy yourselves tonight! Fran, the boss wants to test your skills against the Mist division tomorrow, so enjoy your free night while you can,” said Luss quickly.

Belphegor eyed the peasant with interest. From the sound of things, the boss was planning to make Fran a full member, or at least find out how much work was needed to make them Quality. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

His attention was immediately on the fact Fran was sitting behind him on the motorcycle, arms wrapped around securely on his waist.

“What are you doing?”

He was relieved his breath didn't hitch when he said that. He was a prince...he would never admit to being flustered by the peasant!

“Your bike barely has room for two people,” Fran pointed out.

Belphegor almost felt disappointment. She was right, of course, since this was his personal bike and he didn't like people touching it. He didn't even know why he had decided to take it out in the first place, but he felt the need to do so.

He tried to ignore his reactions to having her press against his back. It was very distracting, especially when her breath would occasionally ghost past his ear.

By the time they reach the club, it's packed and Belphegor is in the mood for a drink.

No one in this town was going to quarrel about the age limits...not when they all knew damn well who he was and what he could do. Only idiots would refuse a prince service of alcohol over something as stupid as being underage. And if they did... well it usually took a late night visit and proof that if he killed them in their sleep that the cops wouldn't look too hard for the murderer to get the message across.

At first everything went normally. Then he noticed some local idiots trying to flirt with the peasant.

Fran kept her face blank, but he could tell she was getting annoyed.

Belphegor was getting irritated as well. The peasant was his to play with...even if just being around her confused the hell out of him. He still didn't get why he kept feeling butterflies in the stomach around her.

He calmly walked up behind her, and wrapped his arm around her waist rather possessively. The squeak she let out was adorable, as was the fact she flushed being that close to him. But she didn't dispute his claim on her.

He could tell right away that she has never gone out to a club before, or if she had she had no idea what to do. It was rather fun, dragging her out to the dance floor.

Even if he couldn't keep his eyes off her, and growled possessively every time another male came too close looking remotely interested.

A few hours of meaningless dancing and a little bit of drinking, and they headed back. If Fran was going to be tested tomorrow, then keeping her out late was a bad idea. He didn't want to lose his peasant simply because they were out too late.

It was with a possessive thrill when she wrapped her arms around his waist again.

What the hell was going on with him? The girls he normally slept with didn't effect him nearly this much, and it was very confusing. 

~**~**~

Fran stared impassively at the Mist division.

“So do I have to keep their minds intact or do I get to play with them?” she asked in a bored tone.

“Voi, just survive a battle royale with the heavy hitters for an hour and then we'll see how much you still need to become a member,” said Squalo.

“That isn't an answer,” said Fran blandly. “Do I have to keep them sane, or am I allowed to go all out when I get bored enough?”

“If they can't handle whatever you dish out, trash, then they don't deserve to be Quality,” said Xanxus coldly. “If you manage to impress us then we'll have you go up against the miser trash.”

“So that means I get free reign. I can work with that. Would have been a pain if I had to keep their minds intact.”

“Ushishishi... let's see what the peasant can come up with,” snickered Belphegor.

Fran's face was impassive and rather bored. The other Mists were starting to get pissed off with how casually she was taking all of this.

“Well... time to play I guess,” she said with a flat expression on her face.

Fran disappeared from sight... but in her place was an absolutely massive black dragon with a multitude of scarring on it's body. It had pissed off blood red eyes that were full of rage and retribution. It's fangs were sharp and lethal, and it's talons looked like they could cut through solid steel like it was butter. The spikes on the back were rather familiar, especially with the way the horns curled up.

Squalo and the others stared.

“Voi. Did she just make a dragon version of the boss?” asked Squalo.

“Good likeness. You can easily tell who it's supposed to be, and it's as if the boss had suddenly acquired the animagus transformation and took the form of a black dragon,” said Mammon approvingly.

Xanxus was drinking his usual alcohol...but you could feel the pleased and rather smug aura coming off him. Fran rarely called him anything but “dragon” or very rarely “Boss”.

Seeing this representation of the alpha predator said how much of a compliment she was giving him.

Then the screaming started.

“...Did she just put them under the illusion of them burning alive by dragonfire?” said Luss impressed.

“Pathetic. The trash can't even break out of a simple illusion,” said Mammon with disgust.

“Oh look, she added another animal!” said Luss with delight. It was clear who this one was supposed to be...the peacock was positively smug and radiated like the sun, showing off it's tail and preening whenever possible.

And yet it's kick was positively nasty. To say nothing of how it used it's beak to gouge the eyes out of one fool who got too close.

“Looks like it's the Prince's turn. She has you pegged,” said Mammon amused.

The sleek, openly smug leopard even had Belphegor's snicker down perfectly. There was even a tuft of hair to represent his ridiculous bangs and a crown perched exactly the same way he usually had his. The way it would stalk it's prey before calmly gouging their intestines out with a wicked snicker matched the prince when he was in a good mood perfectly.

“Voi. I think they're done,” said Squalo, he couldn't hear any screaming from the training room.

“Pathetic,” said Xanxus in disgust.

“Mu. I suppose it's my turn now.”

Mammon waited for the Sun division to remove the weaker Mists before they entered the arena. The first round was more of a general test to see how well they handled combat.

This was a test to see the extent of Fran's skill. If she could handle a fight with the Mist Arcobaleno, then her position was assured.

“Shall we begin?” asked Mammon. “They're not paying me enough to make this go on too long.”

“I guess,” said Fran. From the looks of things, she had been having a snack while she decimated the weaker Mists.

As the battle begins, Fran starts off with something disorienting and mild.

A house of mirrors made of ice. She disappeared into the ice, leaving no trace of where she actually is.

“If you can find me before I catch you, then you win~” she sing-songed with her flat voice.

Mammon frowned with annoyance.

In the spectator's box, Luss is already grinning wildly. Rather than bother with creature representations like before, Fran chooses a trickier route. She disorients, beguiles and confuses Mammon, who is openly having difficultly finding her.

She even throws in a few images of a half-naked Fon in his original form, which had Mammon blast it out of embarrassment...to the amusement of Luss.

Then things got weird.

Mammon went from flustered to shocked.

“You... who are you?!” the Mist snarled in confusion and wariness.

“Your past come back to haunt you,” came the reply.

Fran appeared without warning, one of Belphegor's knives in her hand against Mammon's throat.

“I win.”

Squalo wasn't the only one staring. For someone to be able to get the drop on Mammon using illusions was major.

“Voi. Did the maid actually beat Mammon?” said Squalo in shock.

“She stole one of my knives,” scowled Belphegor.

“Shark trash, get her up to speed. If she can pull that on the miser trash then she can be a possible replacement if anything happens to the miser,” said Xanxus flatly.

Now he understood why Fran opted to stay as a maid, rather than reveal her skill. To let such potential waste in the lower ranks when they were strong enough to act as a full officer was Stupid to a degree only Sawada had shown so far. There was no reason she needed to broadcast her ability when subtlety and deception was far more effective.

Fran was very much a silent killer.


	4. Chapter 4

In less than a month, Fran was made a full member of the Varia. The language requirement didn't have to be current, and they did count parseltongue as a language. A weird as hell language, but still a language.

Mammon, however, confronted Fran almost immediately once Squalo was done with her.

“Who are you?” she demanded dangerously.

Fran looked Mammon dead in the eye, or as close to it as possible before she told her.

“My name is Iris Lyra Potter-Black, daughter of James Corvo Potter and Lily Evans. Goddaughter to Sirius Orion Black-Potter and niece of Remus John Lupin. I'm your granddaughter, Nonna,” said Fran without hesitation.

Mammon would have collapsed, if Fantasma hadn't been keeping her aloft.

“How do you know my true name?”

Fran made a face.

“I hate time travel. I had a memory dump with ten and a half years worth of memories shoved in my head during a Divination exam and by the time I unscrambled it all I knew I had to get the hell out of England before I died a martyr's death a second time. By the time I first made it into the Varia, I was your replacement. I found one of your old brushes and decided to find out what your real gender was out of boredom...imagine my shock learning you were my paternal grandmother Dorea. It took a week's worth of investigating to figure out what happened. I don't blame you for leaving.”

Mammon...or rather Dorea Athena Potter nee Black, sat down hard on their desk. Her granddaughter had managed to track her down entirely by accident...but not before Dumbledore did almost irreparable damage to her.

“Who raised you?”

“My muggle aunt and her pathetic family. They treated me worse than a house elf and hated anything to do with magic. I was raised completely ignorant of my full heritage and I was left floundering when the war ended the first time around. No one helped me, and those that could were blocked by that goat bastard,” said Fran with fury.

Mammon believed her. She had seen the effects of war first hand, and if Fran wasn't suffering from some form of PTSD she would give up her vaults.

Then she remembered who her granddaughter had chosen to court, however slow and indirect she was about it.

“Mu. At least you have proper tastes when it comes to husbands,” said Mammon finally.

Fran blushed.

“So what now?”

“Nothing changes... though I will be catching you up on your responsibilities as the heiress to the house of Black, to say nothing of what you could do as the head of the house of Potter. And if that idiot goat manages to track you down...leave me to deal with him. I'll remind that old fool that the Daughters of the Ancient and Noble house of Black are not pawns for him to use in his pathetic games. You should concern yourself with your courtship of Belphegor or your studies. I will not allow my grandchild to be manipulated like a common peasant.”

“Yes, Nonna,” said Fran dutifully.

“Remember, you may only call me that in private.”

Fran nodded. At least Dorea had accepted her claim and their blood ties. However shocking and awkward it was to find out her grandmother had accidentally become the Mist Arcobaleno.

~*~*~*~*~

Belphegor was in a fine mood.

He went from amused to just plain bitchy to irritable as hell all in the span of a few hours. Anything and everything could set him off.

It was seriously pissing off Squalo and to a lesser extent Xanxus.

“Prince trash, what the hell is going on with you?” demanded an irritable Xanxus. Squalo had thrown him in the room with the hopes Xanxus would knock whatever screws had come loose back to where they were supposed to be.

“It's nothing.”

“Nothing wouldn't piss off the shark trash so much.”

Belphegor was clearly nervous and had no idea who to ask. The teal-haired witch confused him.

Xanxus eyed the bratty prince, then recalled what Luss said about how he was acting differently around the former maid.

“You're in love with Fran, aren't you? That's why you've been a real shit lately.”

“The prince doesn't love anyone,” said Belphegor too quickly. “I wouldn't even know what love is.”

Xanxus wanted to groan. Teenage angst... of all the things he had to deal with now, he had to deal with this shit.

“Do you feel like butterflies are in your stomach every time she looks at you or acknowledges the fact you're a 'prince'?” he deadpanned. “Does she make you feel differently from the other one-night stands the shark trash mentioned?”

Belphegor stared at the boss in shock.

“What... how did you...”

Xanxus wanted to groan in annoyance.

“It's normal, shitty prince. Love makes people do stupid shit all the time, or in your case makes you more annoying than normal. Just admit you like her as more than just one of your bed warmers and get it over with. Whether or not she likes you back, then at least you'll have an answer. Though if she doesn't and you start stalking her I'll look the other way when she gets pissed and goes after you.”

Belphegor left the room, feeling strangely. He was...nervous?

He wanted to stab himself. A prince should never feel nervous about a peasant.

He found Fran in one of the empty relaxation rooms, reading. Though she was half dozing.

Steeling up the courage he had as Varia Storm, he stalked up to where the half-asleep witch was. Fran barely registered his presence, which he had always found odd because even Squalo tended to be aware of where he was and his mood at all times.

With her though, there is a relaxed state, like she doesn't consider him a threat. Like she trusted him more than his own squad did.

“Bel-sempai, what...” started Fran, before she squeaked.

Probably because he just kissed her. And not a chaste one either.

Her face was a solid red color, and he knew she was blushing.

“Shishishi... your face is all red,” he snickered.

Fran was blushing too hard to answer, and hid her eyes from view with her bangs. He always had the urge to cut half of them off, so she couldn't hide her eyes.

“What was that for?” she managed to get out. He was pleased to note the change in tone.

“The prince doesn't just kiss anyone like that,” he said simply, too embarrassed to explain properly.

“...If this is your way of asking me to be your girlfriend, then I have two conditions,” she said flatly.

“What are they?”

“You don't go further than second base unless you're willing to make a stronger commitment...and if I catch you eyeing someone else I'll kill you in as slow and painful a method as I can come up with in a way that not even Luss would want your corpse.”

“What's the other?” asked Belphegor. He liked the fact that the peasant was so possessive. It meant she wouldn't bat an eye if he demanded that she only look at him like that.

“I want to see your eyes.”

He flinched. Everyone always reacted badly to his eyes.

He blinked when he felt a gentle, calloused hand on his cheek.

“You don't want to see them. They scare people.”

“You throw knives at me while bored. I highly doubt that your eye color is going to make me run away in terror,” she deadpanned.

Bel paused. He felt the girl's hand slide his bangs away from his eyes...and waited for the inevitable flinch at the color. People always found his blood red eyes terrifying. Not like Rasiel's weak baby blue ones.

There was nothing. No fear, no flinch. Her eyes widened with surprise...and if he had to put a word to it, lust. He noticed her breathing changed, but it wasn't the usual terrified sound he associated with his presence.

No, this was far closer to arousal.

“Beautiful,” she said in honest amazement.

He stared at her.

“You're... you're not scared of them?” 

“Anyone who is scared of that color is an idiot of the highest order. They're like blood rubies,” she said honestly, moving the other half of his bangs out of his face so she could observe both of them properly.

Something in his chest unclenched. He relaxed, and almost purred as she ran her hand through his hair.

He didn't even register when he slipped into a light doze, cuddling against the girl who was still running her hand through his hair like he was a particularly temperamental cat.

~*~*~*~

“Voi! What the hell did you tell that damn brat to calm him down?” asked Squalo later.

Bel was acting far more stable than he could ever remember seeing him.

“You're an idiot. All I did was encourage him to go for the little witch he's been studying with.”

Squalo blinked.

“What, so he wants to bone her?”

Xanxus rolled his eyes at Squalo.

“He was in love with her, and didn't know what the feelings were. Considering most of the idiots who are in the Varia would have used it against him, it's no wonder he had no idea what the fuck was going on in his head,” said Xanxus.

Squalo thought over the way Bel and Fran acted towards each other, before he winced.

That explained so much.

And when he saw how the two were acting, even he would have to admit the Boss had a point. Bel was definitely in love with the witch girl, though from the looks of things she had the sense to put a few roadblocks in the way.

“Voi. If you get her pregnant you get to deal with the fall out,” said Squalo.

Belphegor shot him an annoyed look. Fran openly rolled her eyes.

“He's not getting past second base unless he wants to make a stronger commitment than boyfriend and girlfriend. There's a reason I castrated his idiot twin when I was fourteen.”

Belphegor's head shot towards her.

“Wait...the prince you used that castration hex on was...”

“Prince Rasiel,” she said. “Bastard thought it was a smart move to try and force himself on me during the Triwizard Tournament and I decided to use the spell I learned in the back of some old history books...odds are he didn't even realize what I did since I followed it up with a strong kick to the balls. The hex produces a minor burning sensation not too dissimilar to the pain men feel from that sort of kick.”

Belphegor's mouth dropped open. On one hand, he now had a lot of proof his bastard twin brother was alive.

On the other hand, Fran had just openly admitted to castrating him in a very painful manner and then kicking him so hard in the balls that it was unlikely he'd figure out she had just robbed him of his claim on the throne.

He wondered if it was normally to be incredibly turned on by a violent girlfriend.

He threw his head back and laughed, long, hard and in an unhinged manner very similar to Prince the Ripper.

Rasiel was going to be in for a nasty surprise when he tried to take the throne next year.

“Why would that idiot try to pursue you to the point he'd risk getting kicked out?” asked Belphegor with interest.

“Because he seemed to think he had a chance, despite the fact I made it damn clear I wasn't interested. He also seemed to think I would be impressed with the fact he acted like a damn Malfoy, always shoving the fact he was a Prince in my face,” said Fran rolling her eyes in disgust.

Bel froze at that.

“Voi. This idiot does it all the time, yet you don't seem to mind.”

“With Rasiel, he's a self-entitled asshole who thinks everyone should bow because of his status and he wouldn't know hard work if it bit him in the ass,” said Fran bluntly. “Belphegor, on the other hand, does it more as a self-defense mechanism and a way of reminding himself that he's still royalty despite the fact he's in a self-imposed exile after he went on a rampage. To be honest, he's far less annoying and obnoxious compared to his twin.”

Squalo is beginning to see what the boss meant when he said Bel was in love with Fran, rather than just the usual lust he exhibited to his random one-night stands.

Fran saw past his bratty exterior to the real person underneath. She tolerated his behavior to a strong degree because when it came down to it, both of them had their childhood stripped far too young...if they had one at all. Fran showed all the signs consistent with childhood abuse and neglect, on top of the fact she had been ill-treated by the magical enclaves enough that she left before she finished her schooling.

The Varia might not be the “best” place for those who had to suffer long-term abuse, according to most people's standards. But for those like Fran and Belphegor, it was safer than the alternative which most people used.

Drugging them up to the gills until they were barely human, pretending they didn't have instincts that had been honed through years of violence and pain. Better to let her get it out in a way that she could make a living, than to bottle it all up until something snapped.


	5. Chapter 5

Fran did not want to see her former Master and teacher in illusions. Which she knew perfectly well would happen, even if the odds of Mukuro-sensei recognizing her (especially since she wasn't hiding her gender) were very low.

However she did feel she had to say something. Tsuna was a total wimp, but he was nothing like his asshole father.

“Why exactly are the rings being sent now? Hasn't Reborn only been in Japan for a little over a year? The kid couldn't possibly be ready to handle the danger of being named heir so openly,” asked Fran bored. “And Reborn doesn't seem like the sort to want to deal with the nuisance of people after his student this early.”

Mammon paused and openly frowned.

“Fran has a point. This is far too early for someone who's only now starting to transition away from a civilian mindset to receive the Vongola half-rings. And not even Reborn would consider a mere child ready for the headaches of assassins this soon.”

“Besides, isn't the head of CEDEF a total idiot? Is it possible he's trying to clear the way of any other heirs so that he might have a chance to take the title himself?” added Fran. “Setting the kid up against the dragon is a good way to get rid of an heir.”

Now even Xanxus was frowning.

“What are you implying?”

“Three heirs in less than a decade, and no one else finds that remotely suspicious? Once is bad luck, twice is a coincidence, but all three of them dying in such a short time period? And anyone with eyes can see the jackass doesn't care about his civilian family, because he's never around,” said Fran bluntly.

She always found Iemitsu highly suspicious.

Xanxus frowned. Now that she mentioned it, it was odd that he found the journal that explained he wasn't Nono's biological son during a time in his life where he was so volatile. Normally that sort of thing would have been placed in the Don's private library, where all the personal books of the previous Vongola heads would be stored.

And yet he found the one thing that would have tipped him off about the fact he wasn't Nono's biological son in a place where anyone could have gotten their hands on it.

The witch had a point... once was bad luck, but this reeked of a pattern set up to force the Primo's line out of hiding.

His rage whenever the old man or Iemitsu were brought up was sidelined by the intelligence that allowed him to take over the Varia so young.

Something wasn't adding up, and why was it that an outsider was the only one to notice that fact?

Perhaps it would be smarter to curb his rage towards Iemitsu long enough to see if Reborn had noticed anything odd...even if it meant having to put up with a civilian brat who was thrown in the deep end.

~*~*~*~*~*

If Reborn was shocked to see Xanxus after they had more or less captured Basil who was trying to deliver a box full of fakes to Tsuna, he didn't show it.

“What are you doing here?” 

And not trying to kill Tsuna, which was implied.

Xanxus glared at the Sun Arcobaleno and his student. Who thankfully took more after his mother than his jackass father.

“Someone pointed out that there was a clear pattern forming that seems deadset on forcing the Primo's bloodline out of hiding, or clearing the path of succession.”

Reborn blinked.

“What.”

“Once is bad luck, but three times is a fucking pattern. No way a kid who's been living as a civilian would be ready to handle the rings, even with a year of your training,” said Squalo flatly. “It took that idiot Dino seven before even you considered him remotely ready to stand on his own feet.”

“I feel like I should be offended,” said Dino. “Except this is looking more and more like Xanxus might actually listen to reason without trying to kill my little brother, so I'll ignore it.”

Reborn was frowning.

“It does sound suspicious. Three heirs in less than ten years and suddenly the rings are moving towards a civilian who hasn't even remotely moved past his original mindset to anything that would work him in better stead in the mafia,” said Reborn.

“There's also the fact I found one of Nono's personal journals in an area that anyone could have stumbled across it, when it should have been stored in the private library,” said Xanxus darkly.

“Someone pointed out that it reeked of a set up geared towards removing all the legitimate heirs from succession, or at least clearing the way for the External Adviser to stake a claim,” said Mammon.

Reborn noticed someone was missing.

“Where's the unhinged Storm brat? The one who calls himself a prince?”

“Some sushi restaurant he favors,” said Squalo dismissively. On a date with his girlfriend, to boot.

“TakeSushi?” asked Tsuna.

Squalo nodded.

As if in response to the inquiry, Takeshi came in, took one look at the group, before he grinned.

“Hey Mammon-san. Did you know Belphegor went and got a girlfriend?”

“Mu. Of course I knew. The idiot was being a total pain in the ass for weeks until the boss clued him in on the fact he liked her as more than another one-night stand,” said Mammon without hesitation and some annoyance.

“Prince the Ripper has a girlfriend,” deadpanned Reborn. “She must be as screwed up as he is.”

Reborn was openly surprised by the fact Viper threw something at him.

“What's gotten into you?”

“Talk about her like that again and I'll do worse than throw a lamp. I'll not about to let someone as annoying as you mock my heir,” said Mammon frostily.

Dead silence.

“Voi. Hexe impressed you that much?” said Squalo in disbelief.

Hexe was Fran's official codename, though they rarely used it.

Mammon realized their error, but just looked irritated that they had to reveal this much. She held up a hand, and multiple people dropped cash into it.

“Actually she's directly descended from me. Though there's not enough money in the world for me to explain how. She's literally descended from my bloodline before I was cursed,” said Mammon embarrassed. “She only found out we were related by accident, but never brought it up until I confronted her about how she knew certain information that she used against me in our fight.”

Specifically how she knew James and Charlus' names, and the fact she was a lot older than the rest of the Arcobaleno thought. Very few people could make such a scarily accurate guess of her age.

“This I have to see,” said Reborn.

Someone Viper was openly claiming was of her direct bloodline and dating Prince the Ripper? How could he not pass up the chance?

“Later. I might properly introduce you to her, but not now. Her original situation was handled...badly...” said Mammon flatly.

In TakeSushi...

“I swear you're a cat animagus, or at the very least a leopard,” said Fran amused.

“Don't care,” said Bel.

Tsuyoshi chuckled. He could already tell that Fran was good for one of his more unusual customers. Belphegor wasn't radiating the usual sense of death and bloodlust he normally did.

Now he felt more like a contented cat.

The fact he openly let her thread her fingers through his hair, which he reacted violently too under normal circumstances, did not hurt this mental image. He left them alone in one of the private rooms, the food already paid for up front along with the drinks.

He was fine with letting them hide from the world in his restaurant...it meant he wouldn't have to deal with a cranky Hibari Kyouya on his case for not giving him a head's up that the “psychotic prince” was in town again, after the last time Belphegor had come to Namimori in a bad mood and left several very dead bodies in his wake.

He couldn't properly bite the prince to death, which was why it irritated the Cloud so much.

Besides, they were an adorable couple.

~*~*~*~*~

Reborn stared at Fran. Fran stared impassively back.

“How exactly did you know this kid was related to you?” asked Reborn finally. They looked nothing like Mammon with their hood down.

“She made a far too accurate guess at my actual age,” said Mammon crossly.

“To be fair, it was mostly a matter of adding up the years, considering I know how old you were when my father was born,” said Fran.

Reborn added up the details.

“So that's why you claimed her. She's your granddaughter, isn't she?” he said with glee.

“One more word and I'll happily remove any chances of you procreating ever again,” said Mammon.

“To be fair, it's not entirely their fault that they got into an accident with some volatile ingredients that reverted them to the age of a toddler during an assault on the house,” said Fran. “Or that they left England... no doubt that old goat would claim they used some dark magic or some other bullshit excuse to get them in trouble simply because they don't like him.”

“Actually it was because I wasn't stupid enough to stick around in a weakened condition and it accidentally woke up my latent Flames,” corrected Mammon.

Reborn was positively amused learning Mammon had a granddaughter. One who was dating her co-worker.

“I wonder if...”

“I'm sure Fon will understand he'd have a better chance getting her interest if he used the old ways, rather than whatever he's been doing. Nonna (the girl wasn't even trying to hide it now) was raised with old blood, old money and positively Victorian values.”

Reborn eyed Viper, before he cautiously asked “English enclaves?”

It was the only thing that made sense. 

Viper positively grumbled under their breath.

“I swear the collective intelligence of my home enclave has gone straight down the toilet thanks to that senile goat.”

“If they didn't drive off the fresh blood and quit with the inbreeding, maybe things would perk up. As it is, I'm going to happily watch everything implode with popcorn,” said Fran bluntly.

“So how old is Viper, really?” asked Reborn with amusement.

“I would rather not have my grandmother pissed off with me for revealing it. Especially since she's my best defense at keeping a certain goat bastard from dragging me back to 'do my duty' for the English enclaves,” said Fran tonelessly.

Reborn puts aside his amusement long enough to observe the girl.

Clothing was fitting, but not because she was used to wearing such...more likely the Sun officer's doing with Mammon's insistence. Avoids physical contact if possible, eyes flat and almost dead, subconsciously hides behind her bangs. He also remembered the way Mammon broached the topic, with open distaste and no little amount of anger towards the matter.

Ah. No wonder the Mist was pissed...it's clear her granddaughter was abused extensively. Likely why she attached herself to the Storm brat... while he was a violent, bloodthirsty teen, he also had several known triggers that could be avoided. If she was already acclimatized to violence, then having someone with known triggers she could be warned about would be comforting.

From the way Viper was, he highly doubted that her son would harm his own child. An adoption gone bad?

“How long?” he asked Fran.

“Ah. So that's how you pull off your mind-reading trick. You're a cold reader.”

“A what?” said Viper intently.

“Cold reading. It's a common trick for observant people and generally used to fake a psychic gift. Basically he's reading all the little tells people instinctively take in, except he's actually cataloging them and putting them into the proper place quickly enough to pretend he's able to read minds. Rather annoying, and part of the reason I tend to keep my expression flat whenever possible. Some signs are impossible to hide though,” commented Fran.

Reborn pouted. It wasn't often someone busted him for his trick.

“You mean to tell me that his stupid mind reading trick is just extreme observation?!” said Viper irate.

“It takes one to know one. There's a reason I made seeker at eleven, and it's not because Gryffindor was in desperate need of someone who could fly,” said Fran bluntly. “And to answer your question, it started when I was a year and a half, and only ended when I ditched England behind. So close to a year and eight months is when it stopped.”

Mammon mutters darkly, and Reborn understands completely.

If there's one thing the Arcobaleno take dead serious, it's family. It was why Fon visited whenever he could to Namimori to see his only remaining relative, despite the fact it annoyed the hell out of the Cloud. 

So the fact Viper's granddaughter had been extensively abused for years since she was an innocent child was sure to piss them all off a great deal.

“Would you happen to have an address at least?” asked Reborn. If only so he knew where to direct the free members of the Arcobaleno for some long overdue retribution.

“Not until I've covered all my bases that would result in me being dragged back. I hate contracts that can force someone to act against their will,” said Fran with venom.

“...Do I want to know?”

“A Death Eater who was supposed to be dead forced me into a tournament meant for those who were in their last year of schooling. I had to face a bloody mothering dragon and a nest with real eggs, nearly drowning and a port key that lead to an ambush on top of Belphegor's twin not taking the hint and leaving me the hell alone,” said Fran crossly. “Almost makes me wish that idiot Minister hadn't killed him to try and save face just to see your reaction.”

Mammon's expression was dark and pissed.

“We are going to have a long overdue talk about what happened to you and what the response will be. No one gets away from manipulating a Black, much less someone of my bloodline,” said Mammon angrily.

“Fun.”


	6. Chapter 6

If Nono was shocked to find that Xanxus was more interested in finding out why the rings were sent rather than fighting for them, he didn't show it.

Or he was just good at hiding it.

As it was, he wasn't about to question exactly how this “Fran” was related to the Arcobaleno Mist for his own sanity. Somehow he had the feeling that was one can of worms he didn't want to open anytime soon, not when they were still sorting out this mess.

Someone or something was either trying to force young Tsuna into becoming Decimo, or Iemitsu was going to have some major explaining to do about his competence.

Finding out Tsuna had only vague recollections of who his father was, and openly believed the man to be dead at this point had been a nasty surprise. It also said volumes of Iemitsu's parenting skills, that his own son didn't know who he was or that he was still alive.

His wife was an amazingly patient woman, but even patience had limits and she was openly considering getting a divorce at this point since she was starting to see exactly how much her husband had been lying to her for years.

Fran wondered if she should be worried about the changes she was making to the timeline she was semi-aware of, since she had come in so late and after a hellish war she barely survived.

Except that timeline had pretty much went straight to hell the second she decided that the script that was shoved down her throat the first time wasn't for her, and she was making a new one as she went along.

It wasn't that she cared about the Vongola Decimo. He was an okay person, and he was nice to her original teacher in how to use Mist and took in strays like you wouldn't believe.

Except she had lived with subtle manipulations and discreet plans behind the scenes the first time and gotten badly screwed over for it, leaving her more broken than whole.

She knew the telltale signs, and if it meant she got the vicious enjoyment of seeing someone else's plans go to hell and making someone else's life easier, well, why wouldn't she jump at the chance? It meant things would filter back to the one doing the 'changing', and hopefully make her life that much easier.

Especially if the English tried to force her back onto the old script. If she was favored by the Vongola, then there was a very high probability they'd happily wipe the place off the map, or at least most of the movers and shakers until the inbred morons got it through their thick skulls to leave her the hell alone.

On top of that, this time the Arcobaleno were aware she was directly related to one of their own.

If there was one thing the Strongest Seven had in common, it was that they were viciously protective of family, especially when it came to kids.

The fact Fran openly recounted every single abuse she had suffered in her short life because of Dumbledore's stupidity and lack of general care for her well being, not to mention the bloody prophecy he wouldn't let her get out of which was so open to interpretation, well it only made them far more likely to come to her defense.

Reborn in particular hated child abusers and was such a gentleman that the idea of forcing a child to become a soldier for people who wouldn't appreciate it or give the kid the therapy they so clearly needed in peace once their 'duty' was done pissed him off immensely.

Fran was broken. That much was obvious. But there was still some sliver of the girl she had been before the memories of ten and a half years were more or less dumped in her head that included every loss and revelation that she would be forced to martyr herself for the English enclave simply because they were too cowardly to solve the problems themselves remaining.

~~*~**~*~~

Mammon was drinking. It was the good stuff, which was unusual considering she was well known as a miser, but right now she desperately needed it.

She had known things were bad in England.

But this was leagues above what she anticipated.

Dumbledore's influence had stripped her home enclave of what little dignity it had retained after Grindlewald.

Being given free reign and an almost ridiculous amount of titles after Voldemort was removed from power for a little over a decade had resulted in the pacifistic “leader of the Light” to remove anything that he disapproved of, stripping most of the neutrals and the dark of their ability to practice the old ways. Worse, he had come to openly believe himself the second coming of Merlin!

Magical England was a complete joke compared to what it had been when she was just a girl. Dumbledore had almost completely gutted it of all magical heritage to cater to the ridiculous whims of the new bloods who looked at their culture and heritage with disdain without bothering to find out why certain things were done a particular way.

While Mammon would be the first to admit an appreciation for technology, she was furious that things had deteriorated to the point it was this bad because the pure bloods couldn't be bothered to realize that electricity and other 'fads' were never going to go away!

No wonder her granddaughter had leaped at the chance to get the hell away from England, even if it meant having to become an assassin in the process!

On the plus side, the boy she was now openly courting (dating was far too modern for her tastes) was of a strong and rare enough lineage that Mammon could easily claim that all marriage contracts were now off the board because her grandchild was courting someone of much higher pedigree than any available in England, France or Italy. It might be a small monarchy, but the bloodline had a lot of old family magicks and was powerful enough to sustain two magical heirs at the same time.

She had already drafted up a marriage contract (which came complete with the magical equivalent of a chastity belt... she was not going to trust Belphegor to contain himself and this would serve as a discreet warning) between the two, once Belphegor made up his mind whether he wanted to keep Fran as his girlfriend or if he wanted to make it more permanent. Coming from a royal line, he would know what a betrothal contract was for.

She silently passed a glass to Reborn, who accepted it without hesitation. It had been that sort of day.

“If I ever find the Mist responsible for half this mess, I am going to shove several Chaos Bullets where the sun doesn't shine,” said Reborn. “Goddamn Mists... no offense.”

“I'll take your expletive and raise it to goddamn pacifistic generals who don't know when to keep their damn claws where it doesn't belong. Just because the old magicks haven't always been nice doesn't mean he should have been allowed to basically gut an entire culture and cause centuries of history and magic to be lost because he didn't like the fact he wasn't from an old blood family!” said Mammon, voice irate and raising with every word. The only reason she didn't slam her glass on the counter was because it would have wasted the good booze.

“That bad?” asked Reborn. Mammon's dead eyes shut him up rather fast.

“It's worse. He's the sort of general who happily allowed his own men to die if the enemy even remotely pretended they were willing to try for redemption and is such a damn wimp that he won't put down rapists, murderers and those who would harm children without a second thought. He'd thrown them into a dungeon prison that could be easily broken into with the right bribe,” said Mammon with such disgust that you could feel her hatred of the man. “On top of that he's basically shoved all the responsibility for ending this madness on my granddaughter who is so close to breaking completely that she had to latch on to an almost mentally unstable psychopath who occasionally has episodes were he goes onto an indiscriminate killing spree just to remain sane!”

Reborn winced. He passed the booze back.

Mammon took a massive drink of the liquor, before she added the part that really pissed her off.

“And if that wasn't infuriating enough, according to Fran the war was won not by people growing a damn backbone and fighting off the indoctrination Dumbledore shoved down their throats for years, but because children had enough and finished a fight that should have been left to the adults because Fran's Sky shielded them from the worst of his nonsense! Her Flames are such a mess I don't even know where to begin to fix them!”

In short, Mammon was beyond the point of being pissed and was on the warpath for some blood...preferably Dumbledore's for allowing things to get this bad.

“At least this time she has actual support and back up,” said Reborn, trying to add something positive to the absolute clusterfuck they were in the center of.

“Oh please, you're just happy that things are starting to look like your student won't have to fight Xanxus and his group when his Lightning isn't even six, with less than a year of proper training. All because Fran started asking the questions no one else would and got them to see underneath the underneath,” scoffed Mammon. 

Reborn tilted his hat in agreement to that. If not for Fran, Tsuna might very well be fighting Xanxus right now. And that was one fight Reborn would have hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst.

As it was, Xanxus was giving Tsuna a very thorough crash course on Sky Flames once Timoteo removed the seal (and that had really pissed Xanxus off...the fact Iemitsu openly asked the Ninth to seal a just active Sky like that, rather than do his damn job as a father) and slowly losing the edge to his Wrath.

Nono was asking hard, pertinent questions about CEDEF's ability to do their job and taking a much more thorough look at the Vongola as a whole to find out what else he could have missed.

Iemitsu was learning the hard way that his behavior had some major consequences, the least of which was a divorce and the growing possibility he would be without a job. (Because if Nono didn't fire him, then Tsuna certainly would.)

“...Exactly how close are those two anyway?”

“Close enough that I drafted up a betrothal contract between them just in case. Once Belphegor signs it, then it becomes official and Fran is safe from any foolishness of the old goat to hand her off to some inbred moron as a wife.”

“So he actually is royalty?”

“After what Fran did to his twin, he's the last in line to inherit. All he needs is to find the appropriate wife to take place as his queen and reach his magical majority, then present himself to the court and let the chips fall,” said Mammon.

“What did Fran do?”

“Slow acting castration hex, combined with a rather impressive kick to the balls immediately after. By the time they figure it out, if they ever do before Belphegor shows up to inherit, it'll be too late to reverse it.”

Reborn winced.

“Of course considering the laws about who can inherit the throne, the fact Fran did that to him means he barely ranks as a Prince now. It's very specific that the king or queen has to be able to procreate in order to take the throne, and testing for that is pretty standard as a precaution. As his twin, the second it gets out that his 'older' brother was rendered sterile for pissing off the wrong witch, he'll automatically be bumped up to the next in line for succession. Especially if he has a wife of proper lineage and power.”

“And Fran qualifies?” asked Reborn, fascinated.

“Head of one ancient and noble house, and heiress to a second unless Sirius decides to abdicate in favor of her.”

Sensing Reborn's genuine interest in the subject, Viper dropped their usual demands for money and elaborated on something she had more or less grown up with, including how things were before Dumbledore went and screwed everything up with his petty insecurities. The house of Dumbledore wasn't very old, and the man himself was a half-blood who barely inherited the family magicks, since most of it went to his brother Aberworth.

As such he had always been resentful of the old blood, older money crowds and when opportunity struck, he took it without a second thought of the loss it would cause.

“In many ways it might seem backward, but I can see there is a deep sense of culture and heritage that is rather strong in it.”

“Most new bloods, or 'muggleborns', who enter it think it's a backwards society that needs to be brought to the modern era without realizing the damage it causes. In reality it would be better to call the magical enclaves something closer to a separate culture that just happens to exist beside the 'normal' one they grew up with, such as a rural town where the addition of more modern technology would be more hindrance than help considering the costs and labor involved to 'bring it up to code' as it were.”

“Sounds like you'd be better off writing a book that should be mandatory for those just entering that world, rather than try to change it back.”

Viper looked thoughtful.

“I'd make a lot of money and it would force the new bloods to realize they can't change things that have stood for centuries for a reason.”

“Or you could have Fran do it. She was raised in both worlds, wasn't she? And it might help her heal a little bit too.”

Viper nodded. Fran might be able to make a better book, since she saw the damages of the culture clash first hand in a more recent perspective.

~*~*~*~*~

“You want me to what?”

“Treat the magical enclaves as a separate culture living alongside the one most new bloods grow up in and explain things to them in a way they can understand,” repeated Viper. “If we do this right, then a lot of the support Dumbledore has from the 'new bloods' and a good chunk of the confused half-bloods should take a massive hit. If not now, then when the children who are only now starting to form opinions about magic enter our society.”

“We might want to hit them earlier than that. If the magicals learn what the book is really about, they might burn them out of hand without a second thought. Especially if the old goat figures out what we're really doing. If we wrote this, then we might want to include a list of common signs of accidental magic, and make it so that when a child picks it up, the spell on it breaks so that their parents can read it as well. And we'll put it every book store that carries the mainstream books...maybe online as well,” mused Fran.

“Spread it as far and wide as possible so that you net as many children as you can in the 'normal' world and by the time they reach the magical schools, it should lessen the blow,” said Viper with approval.

“I learned as much as I could while barricaded in Grimmauld place. When the portraits in the house learned I was deliberately kept ignorant...once they got over the shock of the fact my Black blood ran truer than in my father when I threatened Walburga's portrait in a way that would have left Bellatrix impressed...they were more than happy to catch me up on the education I should have had. That's when I figured out it was less that the magical enclaves were ignorant, but more that the muggleborns were approaching the whole thing all wrong. Hermione was always so infuriated by the 'backwards' thinking of the Ministry when she tried to shove all those reforms down their throats...” said Fran, shaking her head.

Either way, this sounded like an excellent way to stir up a lot of chaos that would make Dumbledore's life needlessly difficult.


	7. Chapter 7

Belphegor was rather nervous. After the mess with the rings was cleared up (Tsuna would wear them, but would still wait until he was at least out of middle school before he announced himself to the mafia properly) and the revelation of how badly things were going in magical England, he knew it was only a matter of time before the idiots in the English enclave tried to reclaim Fran.

Fran was a very attractive untouched female from two very old and well established lines that came from old blood and very old money. She was a natural metamorphamagus with a great deal of intelligence, a great deal of magical ability and power, and had multiple skills desirable in females. Her fame was of little note, but it did make her far more desirable for the fools on both sides.

More than that, Fran was a Sky. A Misty Sky, to be exact. Her Flames were a complete mess right now, as the wizards had very nearly broken her spirit and her soul, but they were quickly regaining strength the longer she was away from their idiocy.

In short she was as close to an equal as he was likely to get outside of other magical royalty, none of which would dare touch his family line with any length of pole, especially after what he did as a child.

He just wasn't sure Mammon would help him properly court her as a potential wife. He knew Mammon was old blood from the beginning...she had been one of the few to treat him with the proper amount of respect due to someone of his station from the very start. Even if she did act as his magical guardian and thus his 'superior' until he came of age.

As Fran's direct relative, she was the one he would have to impress with his sincerity about wanting to court her.

“Come in and don't dawdle. Time is money.”

Belphegor did not slink in. He had to portray the proper amount of confidence if he wanted any chance of succeeding today.

“What do you want?”

“I want to court your granddaughter in the old ways,” he stated simply. Mammon hated wasting time, so he went with blunt.

Mammon paused in their accounting.

“You wish to court Fran as your potential wife?” she clarified. “By what reasoning should I allow it?”

Belphegor gathered up his princely courage and listed why he was interested in her as more than just a 'girlfriend'.

“She actually sees me, not just the Prince side. She understands me in a way no one else has ever tried save for you. She's one of the few females I've met of proper lineage that has actually caught and held my interest and she can keep up with me when things are bad,” he said calmly. But then he said the one reason why he decided to properly court Fran.

“She's not afraid of Prince the Ripper. At all.”

One of his newer Storms had managed to cause a decent cut on his cheek earlier, enough to set off the powder keg that was Prince the Ripper. The fool had died, along with several other idiots too slow or too new to understand the dangers of him snapping like that.

Fran had been reading in the room, and when she heard Prince the Ripper make an appearance she had sighed in exasperation, before calmly dodging his knives and going right up to him.

The second she kissed him, something inside his soul seemed to calm down and he was able to think clearly and snap out of it. It was the first time in his life that “Prince the Ripper” had been calmed by an external source and not just a lack of victims.

She hadn't been afraid of him. Hadn't even reacted beyond fond exasperation that he had snapped and needed someone there to snap him out of it.

Mammon paused. Then she reached into her desk and pulled out a scroll and a pitch black quill.

Belphegor knew a betrothal contract when he saw one. And a blood quill.

“You knew?”

“The second I found out who Fran actually was, and that her interest in you wasn't going away any time soon I had this drafted. All it needs is your signature, though once you sign it a magical ward will take effect around Fran.”

“...What sort of ward?”

“The kind that makes it impossible for you two to do anything below the belt until you are properly married and magic recognizes you two as husband and wife,” said Mammon flatly.

Belphegor stared.

“You mean a chastity belt.”

“An invisible one, but I will know if you try anything you're not supposed to because of hormones and it will give you firm warning beforehand. Until you put a ring on her or magic itself recognizes your commitment, that ward stays on,” said Mammon, giving him a hard look. “And if you attempt to get physical gratification from anyone once the contract is signed, then the contract will burn up and show that you were not ready to make a proper commitment in the first place to your potential wife.”

Right. Mammon was very old school, and part of that entailed the “no sex until marriage”.

Belphegor had never really looked at other females since he realized he was in love with Fran. So the “no touching other girls” part he could live with. Such contracts were made back when having same-gender partners was heavily frowned upon, as was a majority of now acceptable kinks and fetishes.

Well, he had wanted Mammon's permission to court Fran properly. Now he just had to make it official with blood and writing.

He took the blood quill and wrote his old name, next to the one he used now. He felt his magic sink into the contract, making it official in the eyes of magic and in any Ministry around the world.

(Elsewhere in the castle, Fran felt the ward take hold and knew what it meant. She just didn't know how to feel about the fact Belphegor liked her enough to actually commit to such a binding betrothal contract in the first place. Particularly one that was blood-based, which meant it would take some serious trickery and magic to break it unless they wanted it broken.)

“The one in the hands of the goblins should be updating as we speak. I expect a proper ring on her hand before you go to present yourself as heir to throne,” said Mammon flatly.

“What?” said Bel surprised. To be honest he had given up on the throne by this point. So long as his claims as Prince were never disputed, it wasn't his problem.

“As the twin heir of the royal line, you have an equal claim to the throne so long as you can provide a proper wife of suitable lineage. Especially once your twin undergoes the standard check to see if he is suitable to claim the crown. I highly doubt your fool brother would have bothered to properly look for a suitable queen, and would have picked from the presented stock of noble females for one that he can easily control. Which means you have a stronger claim than he does, if you do it correctly,” Mammon reminded him.

Magical royalty preferred that their king and queen not only have a backbone, but have a proper pedigree. Having two Ancient and Noble lineages in her recent ancestry made her far superior to any 'common' nobility. Especially since she was the head of those lines.

Add to that her fame and the fact she was a Sky and Fran would obviously be superior to any simpering idiot Rasiel managed to convince to marry him.

In short Belphegor had a much stronger claim to the throne than he did originally simply by picking Fran.

Fran would have great trouble looking her betrothed in the eye for a few days. To be fair, Belphegor was still thinking over the implications of the fact he might actually become king over his 'older' brother, when he had more or less quit caring about the throne by this point so long as his status as Prince was never contested.

~*~*~*~

In a series of events that no one would speak about after the fact, the Varia learns two things about Fran.

One, she is absolutely terrifying in a way not even the Boss can compete with when denied steak or booze when it's that time of the month and there's no chocolate around.  
And two, the odd couple of the Storm officer and the now former maid suddenly made perfect sense after the incident when Fran got very creative in venting out the five days that she generally suffers during her period without any chocolate to deaden the blow.

It was, as Squalo would put it while dead drunk, very much a match made in hell.

Belphegor got off on blood and death when in either state while Fran... she was just a vindictive bitch who hid that fact under an obnoxious mask that had quite a few people more than ready and willing to punch her in the face for pointing out things no one wanted to hear in a deadpan tone as if it was normal. And when she was properly motivated (such as when she was deprived of chocolate) she left a swath of destruction that had Belphegor looking very much like he would love to do more than snog her senseless.

On an unrelated note, the Varia now kept a very close eye to when her time of the month came around and made damn sure that there was chocolate stocked to appease the demon.

Mammon had merely cackled at the incident, stating that if she ever needed proof that the Black Blood ran true through her granddaughter, that would have been the only kind she would need.

And by this time, the fact Mammon had a granddaughter who was also in the Varia was common knowledge.

Fon discreetly visited Fran while they were in Namimori and asked advice on how to woo the rather grumpy Viper. He took the news Viper had a granddaughter (and was quite likely older than he had originally guessed) rather well. Apparently the witch had openly fascinated him since a rather difficult mission before they were cursed.

Fran had taken one look at the martial artist and gave him a tired smile.

“Nonna was raised with some rather...Victorian...values. If you wish to properly court her or at least get her interest, then try learning the Victorian Flower language and being subtle about it. Overt attempts like the one Colonello uses are more likely to bore her...she's sly and cunning through and through.”

Dorea had been a Slytherin. She was used to subtle power plays and thinly veiled threats. The only reason she married Charlus was because the man had amused her so much when they were students...and because she couldn't stand the fools that were being presented to her by her parents.

She would rather marry a Gryffindor than be stuck with weak-willed Snakes who barely understood the value of being subtle.

Fon had taken her suggestion under advisement. Though Fran did playfully tell him that Dorea was also well used to pranks, as her son (and adopted son/slightly distant cousin) and their best friend (who was a werewolf) had been some of the worst trio of hellions the school had ever seen.

She had to have some sort of mischief in her blood, to produce someone like James Potter.

Fon had given her a rather worrying grin, and she wondered if she shouldn't have mentioned the Marauders.

The fact Mammon received a rather lovely bouquet of flowers (which upon further inspection had several double meanings in the flower language) that happened to contain a small package of herbs that could cause explosive diarrhea if used correctly and would take hours before it was noticed less than a week later had the Mist blushing rather horribly.

No one could pin down who had put said herbs in Levi's coffee (as a test run), but Fran knew it was her grandmother. The Lightning had a way of irritating them greatly on a good day. Mammon had a field day charging the annoying sycophant for the toilet paper rolls at exorbitant prices...the fact she had confiscated all of them before executing the prank and then proceeded to terrorize the Varia for days after was just bonus.

She also cheerfully sent pictures to Fon of the aftermath (such as Viper holding the toilet paper hostage with a distinctly gleeful look on her face as they dolled out ridiculous sums of cash). Within a week she is exchanging phone numbers with the Storm for more pictures...and any requests she might have.

Fon might look serene, but there is a damn good reason why he got along with Reborn. Underneath his facade is a complete and utter troll with a wicked, wicked mind.

Bel cuddled with his betrothed on the couch. They might not be able to do much with that chastity belt on her, but they could still do that. Besides, it seemed to temper Fran's feminine wrath during “that time of the month” if she had something to snuggle with.

Though whenever “it” came up, she had a rather worrying habit of going straight for movies where people were ripped apart in graphically horrifying ways rather than go anywhere near the sappy romantic comedies. Worse, if someone irritated her during those four days, she tended to recreate said horror and zombie films and leave her victims gibbering wrecks.

Coincidentally Xanxus (mostly through Squalo) generally sent the two lovebirds on assassination missions or far, far out of the country where being “discreet” wasn't in the job description, or where they were supposed to make examples of their victims.

Mammon found the fact that the Varia was terrified of her granddaughter on her period hilarious. As did Luss, who was generally the one to hand out the medicines to make cramps more tolerable...and therefor one of the rare, rare few safe from Fran's wrath.


	8. Chapter 8

It was a subject many of the Varia had asked at one point. Fran had openly admitted to being very good at using her actual weapon, but no one had ever seen what it was. Even Belphegor, her fiancee (and wasn't that a heart attack waiting to happen), had no idea what sort of weapon Fran used.

The only thing she would confirm openly was that it was a long range one, and she didn't really like getting up-close and personal unless she was really pissed off and behind a screen. Blood was a pain to get out of clothes.

Naturally, boredom and lack of anything better to do resulted in Fran getting into a rather amusing bet on whether or not the Mist could even use a gun or not.

Fran held the hand gun with distaste. They were so awkward and annoying...it was easier to use her wand if she wanted to be that close.

Still, her aim was well within Varia standards. Even if her expression made it clear she didn't like small hand guns and would only carry one on her person under severe protest.

So in a fit of disgust, Squalo ordered her to raid the armory for a weapon she could use and not bitch about it. Varia Quality meant you had to be competent with at least one weapon.

So imagine everyone's surprise when Fran walked right past all the “medieval” weaponry and went straight for the long range sniper rifles.

She inspected three, before she took apart two of them and put them together with a few pieces mixed with the third with shocking competence. Then she slung it over her shoulder with practiced ease and went to the shooting range.

Where she proceeded, for the next hour, to display a rather terrifying ability to snipe from a distance and by using trick shots. She actually shot Levi's drink out of his hand from a position where it shouldn't be possible.

“Voi. You can snipe?” said Squalo.

“I'm always sniping,” deadpanned Fran.

“Not what I meant!” growled Squalo. Though it did explain some of the weird comments Fran made.

Fran concentrated a little to make a perfect double of herself.

“I cheat. Though the rest of that is natural skill and properly fitted contact lenses,” said Fran blandly.

She sent out doubles to line the target up and get a good read of the situation at close range, then sniped her victims in a way that no one could readily claim she was the culprit for. After all, how could she have killed them when she was right there and the bullet had clearly come from a sniper?

She loved her Mist Flame. It made things so much simpler. Best of all it still read with her magical signature, which meant she could send in Mist doubles to infiltrate places beforehand before blowing everyone up or killing them from a distance.

Mammon, unsurprisingly, approved of her granddaughter's weapon choice. She loathed the idea of being up close and personal when it came to Mists.

She never really liked Mukuro, since that idiot glorified in being up close to see his victims die.

At least this time Fran could make all the jokes she had been dying to for years and he wouldn't know how she knew so much about him. She had been wanting to make sniping comments about how his “flirting” with Hibari Kyouya was becoming ridiculous and that they should just go at it like bunnies for YEARS. Especially if he was going to pretend he wasn't cheating on Chrome with the Cloud.

Chrome had found it hilarious when she heard that sort of thing and Mukuro never did find out who spawned most of those comments among the maids about how his 'competition' with the Cloud was more sexual than because they enjoyed poking each other.

He had a very interesting number of things he had been wanting to do to whoever started those. Too bad Chrome liked Fran, even if she hadn't known the other Mist was a girl as well.

Mammon floated up to Fran, noted with approval the weapon she was holding, and then dropped a rather fun bomb.

“Dumbledore has been making noise about finding you. Seems he got tired of hiding the fact there was a prophecy that loosely fits your description and he wants his toy back.”

“...Has Riddle taken over the Ministry? I know he puts a Taboo on his name and sends people after anyone stupid enough to use the little nickname he made himself. I can think of all sorts of fun ways for us to exploit that and make money for the Family,” said Fran bluntly.

“Do tell.”

“Right of conquest and training missions for anyone cleared for knowledge of the 'other' society we belong to. I'm sure the Boss would love it and I know Bel would enjoy wholesale slaughter in the name of defending what's his from idiots who are overdue being removed from the gene pool.”

Belphegor promptly wrapped his arms around his girlfriend.

“Shishishi...something tells me you have a lot of fun planned.”

“It could certainly count as proper dates. We eat, get to kill morons that have annoyed me and think their little sticks make them superior and you get your quota of blood without having to hear any civilians bitch about it. The only ones that would are more likely to recognize your crown and try to kiss your ass in hopes of currying your royal favor than complain about the dead bodies,” said Fran.

Belphegor's snickering ramped up to eleven.

“Best. Betrothed. Ever.”

She actually liked him for all the correct reasons, she didn't care about his hobbies or how messy they were and she was openly planning dates where they could both have fun.

And best of all, she had let him chose whether or not he wanted to commit rather than have the usual forced relationship that almost never worked out. There was a reason betrothals fell out of favor, even among modern nobility.

“Mu. In that case, Riddle hasn't taken over yet, but it's only a matter of time. I'll let you know when he does so we can plan accordingly. As it is, we've banned all missions anywhere near his known area of operation.”

As it turned out, it took two and a half months.

Mammon was not impressed. At all.

~*~*~*~*~

“Ushishishi... I have the best fiance a prince could ask for!” said Belphegor happily...while he was gutting three Death Eaters and twelve “Snatchers” attempting to capture those of 'impure' blood, I/E Muggleborns.

“I had a feeling you'd enjoy this,” said Fran smiling. She smiled more now and wasn't acting like an emotionless drone who was prone to biting, sarcastic comments.

She still made them, but her eyes didn't feel so hollow or emotionless like they were when she first came to the Varia.

“Very! Such worthless peasants pretending to be nobility...” said Belphegor snickering. Once he was done he made very sure to kiss his fiance on the lips for such a delightful date.

Fran smirked.

“My turn,” she said with a sing-song voice.

Belphegor eagerly climbed up to where Fran had taken post. His job was to deal with anyone trying to apparate to their area while she played sniper.

Once she adjusted her shots to compensate for her new gun, she proved to be an even better sniper than anyone could have guessed. Xanxus had been openly amused/impressed when he saw how she used her doppelganger trick to establish a perfect alibi while lining up her target...right before splattering their brains all over the pavement.

Her decoy Fran (looking like Iris) said Riddles nom de plume three times like she was playing “Bloody Mary” or something equally ridiculous.

The second they recognized who she was, the bullets started flying with absolutely terrifying precision. It was very cathartic in Fran's open opinion and highly amusing...if only because Belphegor was rating the blood spatter patterns.

She wasn't using a small caliber rifle on their date. Oh no, she was using anti-tank weaponry with an eye to make an “artistic” blood splatter all over the ground.

And those that tried to escape suddenly found themselves facing a demonic “Iris Potter” who quite literally turned into a succubus from hell complete with wings and claws. It was hilarious.

“So what do you want for your birthday?” asked Belphegor. He knew it was coming up... Mammon had told him.

“My birthday is coming up?” said Fran in surprise. She didn't really celebrate it to begin with, so she rarely bothered to keep track of it anymore save for the usual “count the seconds down from midnight” ritual she had.

Bel frowned.

“Your seventeenth is coming up.”

“Oh, my majority. Meh,” said Fran, shooting another idiot dead.

The frown deepened...and unseen by Fran, Bel was already texting Luss about this.

The Misty Sky (her Sky Flames were currently recovering behind her Mist, so people rarely sensed them) had no idea of the chaos her boyfriend had just created with that one text.

A few days later...

Fran's look of open shock and surprise from the party was totally worth it. Especially when a certain blond missile practically tackled her into a hug.

“Lunabell?”

“You really didn't think I'd leave your Mist Guardian around those idiots, did you?” said Mammon amused.

“Actually I'm still waiting for your reaction to the clause I added into the contract you had Bel sign,” said Fran.

“Clause?” said the duo confused responses of Belphegor and Mammon.

Mammon went to unfurl the betrothal contract, but Luss interrupted that with cake.

Fran was very surprised at the fact that most of the Storm division chipped in for her present...apparently they loved the fact she kept their officer from killing them out of boredom.

However her favorite gift was the motorcycle with little teal and indigo colored frogs on the side...along with the Varia crest.

“How did you...”

“You really think I would miss the fact you've been borrowing Belphegor's bike when he's on assignment?” said Mammon. 

Belphegor eyed his girlfriend.

“So you're the reason the suspension on my personal bike went out.”

“Actually that was an accident,” said Fran. “Besides, I've been cheating with my Mist Flames since I nearly got caught last time.”

“Cheating how?” asked Mammon.

Fran pulled out a small cylindrical bar that was teal-colored. It was about two feet long, and about two and a half inches wide. It was also glowing much like a light saber or a glowstick.

“...Please don't tell me...” started Squalo, pinching his nose.

Fran held it horizontally and channeled Mist Flames into it... creating a Light Cycle straight out of Tron.

“Ushishishi!”

“We really need to quit letting the Mists division dictate movie night...” said Squalo.

“Actually this was from the 3DS Kingdom Hearts game. They had Riku riding it and shooting lasers...it was awesome.”

“I want to try,” said Belphegor.

Fran grinned.

“After the party. I can make mine fly,” said Fran. She held out her phone for Mammon. Who snorted at the pictures of the disbelieving expressions on civilian faces.

It was fun, especially when Luna's unique view of the world started to interact with her Mist Flames.

Mammon gave Fran a dirty look.

“You had to harmonize with a Lovegood,” she said sourly.

“What's so bad about a Lovegood?” asked Xanxus.

“They're all batshit nuts,” said Mammon flatly.

Fran was hugging Luna, with an amused grin on her face.

“Luna's not so bad...and I'd rather have her on my side spreading chaos, anarchy and all around confusion than try to make sense of her thought processes.”

“True,” said Mammon.

~*~*~*~*~

Belphegor was grinning like mad as he drove the lightcycle into the clouds. With Fran supplying the Flames needed to manifest the fictional vehicle...and the Sky flame to fly... he was having a blast.

He was snickering like a loon at the expression on the pilot's faces when they saw it drive right past the cockpit window...it was a well kept secret among the pilot's circles about the phantom apparition driving a motorcycle in the freaking clouds capable of keeping up with a plane flying several hundred miles an hour in the sky.

“That was absurdly fun,” said Belphegor, landing on the ground.

“I know, right? The best part is the look on their faces when they see someone driving a ground-base vehicle in the air fast enough to keep up with the plane. You should see the chatter on the pilot forums...it's hilarious because no one can prove who's driving so the Vindice won't get involved.”

“Shishishi!”

“And we haven't even played with the lasers yet.”

“Lasers?” perked up Belphegor.

Fran leaned over his shoulder to flick a switch. The 'hub caps' came off the cycle and started whirling ominously. Belphegor grinned evilly.

“You don't mind if I shoot down a few birds?”

“Save it for the next time we swing by England. If I can handle a decoy Fran and shoot with a sniper rifle, then I can handle double bikes. We can make it a date night of shooting down the idiots,” said Fran grinning.

Belphegor's grin widened, as he kissed her squarely on the lips for that.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” he said grinning.

Fran openly blushed. It was a habit that always came up when she heard the words “I love you” from Bel.

His future self had never said it, but then again she had never gotten into a relationship with him as a girlfriend either. He only knew the decoy Fran. 

Bel kissed her again... he found it addicting, seeing his girl blush just for him.

Best of all, he knew she was absolutely loyal. She would never look at anyone else with those eyes.

“By the way, what was the clause you were talking about earlier?”

Fran's face went to the usual blank one she had when she first came to the Varia.

“The Handmaiden Clause.”

Belphegor stared at her.

“Handmaiden clause.”

“You do know what the role of a handmaiden is, right?”

“To act as the personal servant of nobility.”

“And to act as a bedwarmer when the prince isn't around.”

His jaw dropped.

“What?” he squeaked.

“Well I wasn't about to let Luna suffer as a broodmare to those idiots, and this way you won't have to worry about me being bored whenever you're away for too long,” said Fran.

Belphegor was speechless.

“You wrote in a clause that gave you a mistress.”

“Not a mistress, a hand maiden...who happens to share my bed when you're not around.”

“...And she's fine sharing our bed?”

“You would be infinitely more tolerable than any idiot from England,” said Fran. “Besides, you know what they say?”

“What?” asked Bel.

“Red heads might be wild in bed, but blonds have way more fun. And I intend to have fun with twice the blonds, especially considering the fact that if you bleached out my original 'black' hair it becomes a very interesting blood red color,” said Fran with a straight face.

Belphegor choked and would deny outright the fact he had a nosebleed going on.

At least he could honestly claim he would never be bored with his fiance. She was a sneaky little thing, slipping in a mistress clause under Mammon's nose without the woman noticing. Then again, the old laws did state that if someone were the head of two houses then they could marry twice.

Nothing in them said that it had to be to the opposite gender.


	9. Chapter 9

Belphegor shot up in his bed. Fran was out on a mission and wouldn't be back for two days at least.

But that wasn't what woke him up. Oh no, that could be blamed on the memories that had been unceremoniously shoved into his head. Ten years worth of them.

And only four of them had Fran in them.

Except this Fran looked far too young and too jaded. She was using her decoy all the time, even humoring him about the frog hat and not complaining about him stabbing her so much.

Now that he knew about the decoy, the fact he never saw her bleed made far more sense.

The thing that struck him the most was that despite what an ass his future self had been to her, she still came back to him. Willingly.

She could have finished the war on her own, settled down with a wizard she could tolerate or even made a name for herself in the underworld.

Instead she had abandoned her home country and everything she knew, to become a maid just to be closer to him. Fran had chosen to be with him all over again, even though he didn't remember her.

If Belphegor hadn't been interested in Fran as a girlfriend, that would have gotten his attention all over again.

Now...to get a frog hat in time to surprise his Froggy. 

“Ushishishi...”

~*~*~*~*~

Fran knew something was up with the Officers. They were gearing up to go to France for some reason, and Mammon had gotten a letter from Reborn about the pacifiers.

So it was only natural she'd squeak with surprise when, as soon as Xanxus and the others had left the building (Belphegor had opted to stay behind and keep the idiots in line...which meant he'd make her do it) he took something from behind his back and put it on her head.

“Shishishi. I knew it. It is you Froggy.”

Her heart nearly stopped. That tone of voice, that nickname.

“What... what did you just call me?”

She had long since given up on hope.

“The Prince wants to know why you got your memories before I did, Froggy,” he repeated.

“You... you remember me?” she said with open hope.

“Ushishishi. Well now I know where you picked up your skills with illusions. You learned how to use your flames from the pineapple pest. Why are you crying?”

“Do you have any idea what it was like? Coming here with the full knowledge you wouldn't even recognize me, despite the way I felt about you?”

She didn't even care that she was crying. She was just happy he remembered her at all.

Belphegor softly kissed her on the lips.

“The Prince will not let anyone take his Froggy away from him. Not now, not ever,” he promised. “After all, you came back even though you knew I wouldn't know you. No one has ever picked me like that before.”

“I don't have to wear the frog hat again, do I?”

“Ushishishi. Only when the others come back and they realize they wasted a trip to pick you up.”

Fran's eyes sparkled with the mischief of a Marauder.

“It's going to take them a few hours to get there. Want to do something fun?”

Belphegor smiled, actually smiled at her.

“The Prince has something in mind already.”

She felt Bel slip something onto her hand. The ring finger, to be exact.

“This is only a prelude to what I'll be able to get later. Mammon is going to tell Luss and the others later on the plane so we don't get headaches from Sorella's excited squealing,” said Bel grimacing. 

It was a ring. A very old ring that had the crest of Belphegor's royal line on the sides.

“Bel, what...”

“There is an old ceremony. One that will fulfill the contract I made with you. However it fell out of use because of the side effects.”

“What side effects?”

“The ceremony does more than make a couple married in the eyes of magic and the ministry. It binds souls together, to the point that neither side would be able to leave the other. It's a permanent binding, where the only way out is death. It took me a while to find it when I remembered who you were before,” said Bel seriously.

This... this was a major commitment, far more binding than any simple marriage ceremony used in modern times. It would mean she would be tied to him for the rest of her life, whether she liked it or not.

Except... it also meant Belphegor would be tied to her in much the same way. That he cared so much about her that he was willing to tie his very soul, the source of his Flames, to her own.

And for once, Fran was damn well going to be selfish for herself.

She kissed him on the lips, pulling him close and she could feel his surprise swiftly turned into a relaxed and relieved smile.

“Mine.”

“Ushishishi... now and forever, Princess,” he promised.

“About how long does this ceremony take?”

“The ritual itself takes about twenty minutes, at most,” admitted Belphegor. “But like I said, it fell out of favor because it bond people together more closely than most would like and was left as a side note. I think some woman used it in a book series, which is where I found it again... though the pronunciation was positively awful.”

Fran had a sudden inkling in her mind.

“Wait... are you telling me that the marriage ritual in the Carpathian series by Christine Feehan is real?”

“You read those?” said Belphegor amused.

“I got curious. They're okay, but the Leopard shifter series was way better. I just wish she had more plot than overt smut in it,” admitted Fran without a hint of shame. “The last one was just boring.”

Belphegor snickered. At least he knew what to get her as a bribe then.

“So... are you willing?” asked Belphegor.

“I was always willing. Why did you think I came back, despite knowing you had no idea who I was? Knowing I would have to see you every day, despite the fact I wasn't your 'Froggy' anymore?” she said smiling.

Belphegor was in a very good mood.

“Normally this would be done on the wedding night... but I'd rather not have to wait months for Luss to make up their mind about the normal ceremony just for something we could do now.”

“The fact Mammon and the others won't be here to interrupt us...?”

Belphegor snickered.

“Bonus.”

Fran was smiling so widely that she didn't think she could feel this happy for a very long time.

On the plane...

“He's what?!” said Luss.

“Belphegor is going to use an older ritual to marry Fran. However he did say he would be willing to deal with a second, normal wedding since he knew you were so looking forward to it,” repeated Mammon.

“Bullshit. He just wanted to do his girlfriend without that magical chastity belt you put on her stopping him,” said Squalo.

“That too,” said Mammon. “I'm still miffed that granddaughter of mine managed to slip in a hand maiden clause of all things without me noticing.”

“A what?” said Squalo.

“Fran managed to slip in a mistress for herself under the old laws about hand maidens, so that her Mist wouldn't be stuck bored to tears with someone from the UK,” clarified Mammon.

Dead silence.

“Wonder if Belphegor knows,” mused Luss.

“Considering I caught him with a nosebleed on her birthday, I would say so,” deadpanned Mammon. “She actually had the gall to say that overused quote about red heads and blonds.”

Xanxus snickered.

“Red heads are wild in bed, but blonds have more fun?”

“She was rather amused about the fact that her original hair color, if bleached, was actually closer to a dark blood red color instead of black as justification for her quote,” said Mammon sourly.

Squalo choked at that.

“Wait... if she's a secret red head then why is her hair teal?”

“She's a Mist and a metamorph through her Black bloodline. Locking her hair to a certain color for long periods of time so she doesn't have to mess with dyes is child's play,” sniffed Mammon.

Mammon suddenly jerked as she felt the ward around Fran snap, and in a way she had been warned about.

“Looks like the those two idiots are having fun,” deadpanned Mammon. That ward wouldn't fall apart like that unless Belphegor had made good on his word.

~*~**~*~

Green eyes stared into blood red. There was an undercurrent of lust that flowed through both of them as Belphegor started to channel his magic to start the ritual.

He took a breath and started chanting in the rhythmic nature of the ritual.

“Te avio päläfertiilam.”

You are my lifemate.

“Éntölam kuulua, avio päläfertiilam.”

I claim you as my lifemate.

“Ted kuuluak, kacad, kojed.”

I belong to you.

“Élidamet andam.”

I offer my life for you.

“Pesämet andam.”

I give you my protection.

“Uskolfertiilamet andam.”

I give you my allegiance.

“Sívamet andam.”

I give you my heart.

“Sielamet andam.”

I give you my soul.

“Ainamet andam.”

I give you my body.

“Sívamet kuuluak kaik että a ted.”

I take into my keeping the same that is yours.

“Ainaak olenszal sívambin.”

Your life will be cherished by me for all my time.

“Te élidet ainaak pide minan.”

Your life will be placed above my own for all time.

“Te avio päläfertiilam.

You are my lifemate.

“Ainaak sívamet jutta oleny.”

You are bound to me for all eternity.

“Ainaak terád vigyázak.”

You are always in my care.**

(**Dark Prince by Catherine Feehan. Do not complain about translation issues or not citing the source. I got this directly from the fan website. It's on page 125 from what I remember.)

Fran could feel the moment the ritual took effect... she gasped, which Bel caught with a kiss.

The ward dropped, shattering like glass around them. Belphegor's eyes glinted in the Mist-conjured lights as he claimed his Princess.

“Mine. For now and for all eternity,” he said with a possessive growl.

“Always, my prince,” said Fran. Bel's breath hitched as she used his native language to call him Prince.

It was a serious turn on...and Fran seemed to guess that because there was a wicked smirk on her face. 

~*~*~*~*~

Squalo stared at “Fran the Frog” in the lake. And then he started swearing, loudly and profusely as his eyebrow began to twitch like crazy.

Mukuro certainly found it amusing to watch as the Varia Rain started to lose it.

Right up until “Fran” said something to piss him off.

“Does this mean I have to watch the epic gay love story between you and the Skylark in person now? Because seriously, the flirting between you two is getting positively ridiculous.”

“What did you say you brat?!”

Mammon... was busy recording this for blackmail later. This was funny.

Mukuro's face went from beyond pissed to confused when he went to stab Fran...only for it to turn into a frog.

Mammon cackled.

“What just happened?” asked Ken, confused.

Luss took pity on the feral teen.

“Fran's already in the Varia, has been for months. Who did you think diverted the Ring Battles from happening?” 

“What,” said Mukuro annoyed. They came all this way out here for nothing?

“Mu. That was certainly amusing.”

Mammon decided to make a discreet exit and head to the springs...unaware of the sheer chaos Fran was about to inflict on the Arcobaleno.

Back in Italy...

Belphegor stared at Fran's mistress. Luna stared back with a dazed smile on her face.

“I knew Fran would look better in teal mixed with gold,” she said dreamily.

“Shishishi.”

Fran rolled her eyes, drinking her water...right up until Luna said something that had her sputtering and moaning the fact she had a Lovegood as a Mist Guardian.

“I wonder how she would look if she were caught in a blond and teal sandwich?” said Luna, tilting her head.

Belphegor grinned even wider, a bit of a nosebleed already forming on his face.

“Ushishishi... Should we find out?”

“I do think we should. After all, how else am I supposed to keep her occupied when you're gone away for long stretches of time?” said Luna innocently.

“Lovegoods. I had to bond to a Lovegood,” said Fran exasperated. “Better yet, imagine how she'll react when I sick you on Fon to give him advice on how to seduce her, the English way.”

Belphegor cackled. Mammon didn't know what she was in for.

“Not like they can use it,” he said once he got over his laughter.

“Who said they can't? I'm just waiting for all of the Tri-Ni-Sette to gather before I break that stupid curse. Kawahira is a lazy idiot,” said Fran.

Belphegor choked on his drink.

“What?”

“You didn't tell him?” said Luna.

“It never came up.”

“What never came up?” said Belphegor.

“I'm the Master of Death. More specifically I'm the poor sod who has to take Death's place so they can get a vacation for once after I die. Why did you think I got my memories back before the rest of you? They didn't want me to walk to my own death a second time,” said Fran, sipping her drink.

Belphegor stared at her.

“She's also immortal, or will be,” said Luna with a chirp. And considering the ritual Belphegor used to bind himself to his new princess, there was an almost certainty that he would be as well.

“Let me get this straight. My Froggy is Death's replacement and can break the curse on Mammy and the others,” said Belphegor slowly. “She is also immortal.”

“I will be. Just because my body might cease to exist doesn't mean I'll pass on normally, at least not until my replacement is chosen. Odds are you'll get some of it as well with the ritual you used. You're not getting rid of me for a very, very long time,” said Fran. “As for that curse... all it needs is something to equalize the balance in a way that won't kill them.”

“Shishishi... let me know when you do it so I can record Mammy's expression when she finds out her granddaughter could have broken the curse for her ages ago if she just asked.”

Fran smirked, and kissed Bel on the cheek for that.

“Now, about that blond and teal sandwich,” said Luna with all seriousness, getting Fran to blush and Belphegor to leer at her.

Best of all it would be a few hours before the others came back which meant they had all that time to themselves.

When they did, Fran was wearing her familiar frog hat, thus confirming the fact she was the same illusionist Mukuro had trained the last time and Belphegor's favorite “Froggy”. Said Prince looked very pleased with himself and was leaning on Fran like a self-satisfied cat.

It was pretty obvious what the two had been doing.

“I still expect to see a proper wedding, darlings!” said Luss.

“Of course Sorella. But do we really have to do it right away when we can wait for the Primo clone to take over and ban Nono from it?” said Fran.

Xanxus snorted at that.

“We can give that trash a proper Vongola celebration and mess with his head,” said Xanxus with approval. “And who's this?”

Luna tilted her head and looked with wide eyes at Xanxus.

“I am the moon, and Fran's Mist.”

“Lovegoods, it just had to be a Lovegood,” groaned Mammon, recognizing her for what she was. “I take it this is the Mistress you slipped in brat?” 

“Like I would let Luna suffer an English husband when she likes me best,” said Fran with a deadpan tone and perfect poker face.


End file.
